


Paradigm Shift

by Victorious56



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clover channels his inner Katy Perry, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Straight Clover Ebi, a sprinkling of spicy stuff at the end, clover displays his woeful lack of gay knowledge, clover's ready to clear that hurdle, don't worry clover you'll get there in the end, just a smidge of angst, just two good bois trying to help, luckily qrow is prepared, nothing graphic though, unenthusiastic dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26176126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: Clover's life is settled in every way except one. As he searches for the right woman for him, fate takes a hand and sets him on an unexpected path.
Relationships: Clover Ebi/Various, Marrow Amin/Jaune Arc, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 88
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this came from a BBC drama, Bob & Rose, which went out nearly 20 years ago. It was based on a real-life couple, and if you know the story you'll know how this pans out. Tbf even if you didn't watch it, you'll know how this pans out 😀
> 
> [This article](https://www.theguardian.com/theobserver/2001/sep/02/features.review67) from the time tells how the TV show came about.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover is ready to settle down. Why is it so hard to find the right person to settle down with?

She fell forward onto Clover's chest, her breath coming in short gasps. Clover brushed her hair away from his face, a small crease between his eyebrows. He put his arms around her, whispering, "I love you," against her ear. The expressionless tone of his voice did not fit well with the sentiment the words were meant to convey.

As her breathing slowed, she shifted her body, and Clover felt himself slip out. The sudden coolness of air on his skin was welcome— a reminder he could still feel something.

She propped herself on her elbow, considering his profile. "But you don't, do you? Not any more. If you ever did." Her voice was not accusatory, only calm and reflective.

Clover was about to protest, _Of course I love you, I always will_.

The words would not come.

"I'm sorry." And he was, truly sorry. He'd thought this was the real thing, but yet again, it proved to be an imposter. A seemingly ideal relationship, wearing a cloak of hope and expectation, which hid the lack of substance beneath. Clover turned his head slightly, wondering why he felt so empty.

"Me too, Clover. We had some happy times, but... I think we both know, there was something missing. I... won't stop over again. I'll take what bits and pieces I have here, and then— then we can both move on."

"Just like that? Maybe... we can still be friends?"

"I don't know. I think perhaps that's what you wanted all along. It... wasn't like that for me." She pushed herself away from him and stood up. "I'm going to have a shower."

The door of the en-suite closed, and Clover heard the lock click shut.

❖

And so his life reverted back, as it always did, to a comfortable bachelor existence. He was a grown man in his thirties, quite capable of looking after himself. He didn't need a woman in his life to take care of him. He just wanted one who would fill in the missing piece of his existence, the gap he knew was there, which he so wanted to complete.

He just hadn't found the right one yet.

As a young man, it had been no problem. There was no expectation he should settle down quickly, and a busy social life suited him fine. He had plenty of friends, both male and female. Some of the girls he had dated casually, their friendship remaining intact when the first few dates had led to nothing more.

As he turned thirty, and his friends began to settle down, he found his social circle diminishing. As a single man, he simply didn't fit in with many of the couples- and family-based activities which filled his friends' lives. He was established in his job at the lab, and although female colleagues were something of a rarity, there had been a couple that he'd had a drink or two with. In each case, nothing had come of it. He was running out of options.

Having initially laughed at the idea of online dating, Clover found himself on Tinder on his thirty-first birthday. He sat at home, a bottle of wine for company, and set up his account.

The following morning, waking with a slightly sore head, Clover felt ashamed that he'd resorted to such a plan. He went to his phone to delete the app, but the three notifications made him stop. Maybe this would be worth it, after all.

❖

Annette seemed very promising. She was a few years younger than him, also with a scientific background. She had been married before and had no children, and she and Clover spent several happy months together, before she called a halt.

"I like you, Clover. A lot. But I feel this isn't really going anywhere... I'm sorry, but I'm looking for someone who wants to commit. I don't think you do, not with me, anyway." She smiled gently, the corners of her brown eyes crinkling. "We had a good time, and I don't regret it at all. I hope you find the right person for you."

And with a soft kiss on his cheek, she was gone.

❖

Rachel was the one, he was certain. She was two years older than him, and had never married. Her career as a journalist had always come first. _Mine too_ , he'd told her eagerly. _And now the time is right,_ he'd told himself.

It wasn't right for Rachel. An offer to move to New York to work for a prestigious publishing house was too good to turn down. Clover had come close to begging her to stay, he was so sure this was what he wanted.

Rachel left for the States, her promises to keep in touch with video calls giving Clover a small hope they could keep this going.

He didn't hear from her again.

❖

After a break from dating, when he felt he was ready to try again, he met Karina. She had moved from Sweden when she had married, many years ago. The marriage hadn't lasted, but she had not returned to Sweden, preferring to continue the life she had build up here. Her work as a hospital doctor meant she had to be flexible with her time, but she and Clover had managed to work around this. They'd been together almost a year, spending nights at each other's houses, and approaching the point where Clover thought they should consider getting a place together.

Now Karina was moving round the bedroom, gathering up clothing and toiletries in a pile on the floor.

"I feel like I want to do this as quickly as possible."

Clover sat in the bed, wondering why he didn't feel devastated. "Rina, are you sure? Can't we at least talk about it?"

She stopped folding clothes, turning to face him. "What would be the point?" Her voice was sad. "I— I thought we had something, a future, maybe. And perhaps you did, too. But when it came to it, your heart wasn't committed, was it?" She returned to the stack of clothes. "Not like mine was."

Clover scrambled out of bed and went towards her. "I'm so sorry..." he began.

She put up a hand. "Don't be. Not for me, anyway. It's better we know now, before..."

He looked at her pale face, screened by the fall of blonde hair as she stared at the floor. _I feel sad, but not— bereft._

Clover grabbed some underwear from the dresser, suddenly feeling awkward in front of her. "Look, if you need a hand with anything..."

Karina's smile was unsteady as she looked at him. "I'll let you know. I'll leave my key, of course. And if you can return your key to me..."

So with the house keys returned to their original owners, Clover found himself single once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some advice from a work colleague, Clover decides to give dating one last try.

"Hi, Vine." Clover took off his jacket and reached for the hanger on the back of the door. He pulled on his lab coat and turned to face his colleague.

"Good morning, Clover. And how was your weekend?"

Clover hesitated. He and Vine has worked together for a fair while, but weren't in the habit of having deep conversations of a personal nature. "It was... okay. I guess."

"You sound uncertain. It doesn't look like you slept well, to be honest."

"No, you're right. As a matter of fact, Karina and I broke up."

Vine's eyebrows drew together, his mouth turning down at the corners. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. You've been together quite a while, haven't you?"

Clover smiled grimly at Vine's question. "Nearly a year."

"Oh." After a pause he added, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Clover opened his mouth to decline the offer.

"Yeah, actually, I would," he said, surprising both himself and Vine with the words.

"I'll get some coffee. There's not a lot happening at the moment."

"Thanks, Vine." Clover pushed some of the papers on his desk to one side, dragging the keyboard towards him and powering up the computer. After logging on, his email opened automatically. He looked at the topmost unread message morosely.

_We've not seen you on Tinder for a while! Don't be shy, perhaps it's time to get back out there!_

"Yeah, right." Clover's mutter was almost a growl, as he clicked the _delete_ button harder than was strictly necessary.

Vine returned with two mugs of coffee. "The coffee area was rather messy, I think we may need to speak to the Dark Matter team again."

Clover sighed. His life was such a bundle of fun at the moment.

"So, what happened exactly?" Vine leant against the bench, both hands wrapped around his _Physics: Why Shit Does Stuff_ mug— a birthday present from his oh-so-funny sister.

Clover straightened his mug on the desk, frowning at it. Rather than address Vine, he began to talk to the mug.

"It was... unexpected, but when it happened, it wasn't a surprise at all. We were— well, that doesn't matter, but I told her I loved her, and then..." He adjusted the mug by a few millimetres. "Then we both somehow knew it wasn't true. She said she knew there was something missing, and what she wanted was different to what I did..."

Vine made what he hoped was an encouraging noise.

"Which is pretty clever, as I don't even know myself what I want. Except, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with Rina. There was nothing wrong with her..." Clover's voice became louder. "It wasn't her, it was me. Huh, I'm a living cliche."

The silence stretched for long enough to start feeling awkward, before Vine said, "You've had quite a few relationships, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. This one was the longest, though."

"Perhaps it's time to take a break. There's no law that says you _have_ to have a partner, you know."

"Yeah, I know, and from what you've said before, I know that's okay for you. But—" Clover finally picked up his mug and sipped it carefully. "I'm capable of being on my own, of course. It's just... I prefer it when there's someone else in my life."

"So, either you lower your expectations, or keep trying."

Clover hated Vine's logical brain sometimes.

"You're right, of course. Doesn't make me feel any better about things, unfortunately."

Vine pushed himself away from the bench. "I am sorry, Clover. I wish I could be more helpful. I'm not really an expert, though. Maybe you need to see a counsellor."

"It might yet come to that. In the meantime, we need to review what's happening here this week. And decide who gets to tackle Dark Matter about the coffee area."

❖

Clover put the takeaway bag on the counter in the kitchen, before taking off his jacket and shoes and putting them in the hall. He wasn't the biggest fan of Chinese takeaway but it was always the quickest, and he just wanted to get home and put his feet up. It had been a long day.

As he picked through the food he idly glanced at his phone. He'd moved the Tinder app off the home screen once he'd stopped using it. _When I didn't need it anymore_. He felt it was an admission of defeat to put it back in full view again. Better to keep it hidden, a guilty secret, so no-one would know of his failure.

 _One last try_. At least then he could tell himself he'd given it his best shot.

Swipe, swipe, swipe. Everyone looked the same after a while, and he felt guilty because he wasn't even reading the bios now. Swipe, swipe, swipe.

His finger was about to swipe left yet again, when he paused. The face looking at him was not too young. Short dark hair. A mischievous smile.

Clover hesitated, then swiped right. It was his last roll of the dice. If this didn't work out, he'd give up trying and just let life take its course. _I'm tired of this game._

He cleared away the remains of his meal and opened another beer. An evening of ignoring what was on TV, whilst messing with his phone, beckoned. He sank onto the sofa and picked up the remote control, when he noticed the photograph.

It was tucked at one end of a shelf of books, angled to one side, and so partially hidden. Two smiling faces gazed out at him. It had only been taken a few months ago, and already it seemed like a previous lifetime.

Clover turned the photo frame face down, and returned to the sofa. _I don't feel sad. I don't feel lonely, exactly. I just feel... adrift._

There was nothing of interest on TV, and even flicking through his phone had lost its allure. He picked up the bottle of beer, drinking the rest quickly, before heading for the bedroom to get ready for bed.

He checked his phone to be sure the alarm was set, and was about to turn off the bedside lamp when he saw the notification. He'd been matched on Tinder with the dark-haired woman from earlier. Clover felt a distinct lack of euphoria at the news. He switched off the light and lay down, hoping that by tomorrow he'd have more enthusiasm for the prospect of dating once again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover decides to have one last try. But the evening doesn't go as planned.

"So she wants to meet up? That's progress, yes?" Vine was enthusing on Clover's behalf, his eager expression fading as he realised the other man wasn't participating. "You're not as keen as you thought?"

"No, it's not that." Clover sighed heavily. "I suppose this has all turned into a bit of a chore. It doesn't spark joy." His laugh was hollow.

"It'll be different once you meet." Vine tried for a bracing tone. "When are you seeing her?"

"Tomorrow. We're meeting at the station and going for a drink. All very low-key."

"Start small, finish big." Vine smiled at him. "That's what they say, isn't it?"

"I'm sure someone's said it before." Clover smiled a reluctant smile. "Thanks Vine, you've cheered me up."

Vine inclined his head in a mock bow. "Glad to be of service."

  


The next day, Clover was running late. His regular train had been cancelled so the following one was full to capacity, meaning he had to wait even longer. The subsequent train was busy, but after a short while he found a seat, collapsing into it with a suppressed groan. The thought of a boring evening at home was welcome, but it wasn't going to happen. He had to get ready and go out.

Once home he checked the time. He had twenty minutes before he had to leave again. _This is not the ideal way to prepare._ _I'll text her and cry off._

Clover typed out the message, his finger hovering over the send button, before backspacing most of the message instead. He apologised in advance for arriving late to their meeting point, and sent it. _Buck up, Ebi. Are you a man or a mouse?_ Clover's brain supplied a small _squeak_ as he ran upstairs to shower and change.

  


Clover threaded his way through the scurrying crowds on the station concourse. He was half-an-hour late at least, and as he checked his phone again, he saw his earlier message hadn't been read. _Unless she's turned that option off_. But looking back, older messages were displayed as read, so...

The tall black marble pillar, with an impressive clock face on each of its four sides, was at the heart of the concourse. It was a popular meeting point, so there were several people standing nearby, most of them peering into the throng of commuters for the face they hoped to see. Clover could not see Francine's face among them.

He stood a short distance from the pillar, texting another apology into the void. _I had a feeling this evening was going to bomb_. People came and went, couples greeting each other joyfully, walking off with linked arms and happy faces. Clover scowled at the floor. He'd been stood up before, but that was a long time ago. _Maybe she arrived earlier, waited for a bit, then left?_ It was a possibility. But why no message from her?

He walked slowly round the pillar in a wide circle. There were only a couple of people waiting now— a woman wearing a worried expression, which vanished as Clover watched her walk swiftly towards another woman. They embraced, turning and heading for the exit, heads close together.

That just left the tall, slim man, who'd been there almost as long as Clover. He stood with his back to the pillar, one leg bent so his foot rested against the black marble. He wore narrow legged black jeans and a dark red, almost military-style jacket. A dark, spiky fringe fell forward across his forehead, covering a wrinkled brow as he studied his phone.

Clover had stopped walking, without realising it. As he stared at the man, the other abruptly pushed himself away from the pillar and pocketed his phone. He raised his face, looking directly at Clover, his eyes widening slightly. They were no more than two metres apart, the gap quickly halved as the dark-haired man took a step forward.

"You too, huh?"

Clover gazed into a pair of unexpectedly red eyes. Not red in the customary _I've abused my body and look like shit and I don't care_ kind of way. Actual red irises, pale crimson to be exact. Clover tried to move his brain out of first gear as he gazed into those eyes.

"Uh..."

The other man smiled slowly, his eyes glancing down Clover's body before returning to consider his flushed face. The smile widened as he said, "Your date didn't show. Mine didn't either."

Clover's brain crawled into second gear. "I was late, I think she may have already left." He looked into the man's face, bemused at the flicker of disappointment which he saw.

"Yeah, mine was a complete no show. Apparently he has something better to do. Probably washing his inexpertly coloured hair." His laugh was bitter as he looked at Clover. "Hi, anyway. Qrow." He held out a hand.

_Crow? What does he mean?_ Clover looked about, expecting to see a large black bird nearby.

"Uh, hello." He shook the other's hand. "I'm Clover, and you are..."

A puzzled look crossed the man's face. "Qrow. I'm Qrow."

A fiery heat washed over Clover's face again. "Uh sorry, I thought you were saying _crow_."

"Yeah, that's my name. Qrow." He smirked a little, gripping Clover's hand firmly. Clover took a step back, realising their hands had been clasped for far too long. "Sorry, it's a daft name, but I'm so used to it, I always forget how it sounds to other people. Qrow, with a Q." He glanced about the concourse, much quieter now the rush-hour commuters had thinned out.

"Look, this sucks that we've both got dressed up for nothing. D'you fancy a swift half before heading home?"

Clover's brain was now fairly steady in third gear. His blushes had subsided, and the guy seemed friendly. The thought of a quick drink, to unwind the tension he felt in his shoulders, was appealing. And the man standing before him... _is also appealing?_ He's friendly, that's what it is. He seems friendly, and we're in a public place, so... why not?

Clover smiled at Qrow. "Why not?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover's evening isn't a complete waste of time after all.

They left the station's main entrance, walking against the main flow of pedestrians. The tall buildings either side of the road cast their path into shadow, even though sunset was still an hour away.

"I know a place not far from here. It's off the main road, so doesn't get as busy." Qrow weaved effortlessly between the oncoming bodies, Clover almost having to trot to stay with him. He saw the bar he'd planned to go to with Francine; he glanced in as they passed, but there was no sign of her. With a small shrug, he hurried his footsteps and caught up with Qrow as he turned sharply down a side street.

The low rays of the sun hit Clover in the face as he turned the corner. Blinking, he cannoned into Qrow's back, not realising the other man had stopped. In the brief moment before Clover stepped backwards, apology about to tumble from his lips, Qrow glanced over his shoulder and looked up into Clover's face.

The apology never materialised, as Clover found he'd lost the power of speech. The expression on Qrow's face, the proximity of those beautiful eyes... _Wait up, what am I even thinking?_

Clover managed to find his voice. "Gods, look, I'm so sorry, I never..."

"It's okay, Clover. No harm done." Qrow smiled, and Clover wondered where the rest of the world had gone, because all he could see was the other man, half turned round in front of him.

"It's just along here." Qrow waved a hand and began to walk along the pavement. After several seconds, Clover followed him, his mind whirling with thoughts he barely comprehended.

Another turning into an even narrower street, with no room for a pavement at all, and they had reached their destination. _The Goat and Compasses._

"Here we are," said Qrow brightly. He held the door open for Clover, and they walked into the shady interior of the small pub.

Although dim, Clover could see the decor was not dingy. The walls were lined with small booths, brightened with striped cushions in rainbow colours. The scattered tables and chairs, and the stools in front of the bar, were not the usual dark wood, but a light coloured variety. The whole effect was cosy and intimate, without being dark.

Qrow leaned on the edge of the bar. "Hi Alex, how're you?"

"Pretty good, thanks. What will you be having today?"

Qrow studied the pumps. "I'll have a half of 3 Weiss Monkeys, please. What about you, Clover?" He smiled at Clover, who was standing some way behind him.

"Uh, I'll have the same as you."

"Okay Alex, two halves, please."

"Coming right up." The server pulled the two halves of beer, placing them on the bar cloth. Qrow paid, and passed one glass to Clover.

"Shall we sit?" Without waiting for an answer, he led the way to one of the small booths, setting his beer on the table before edging in to sit down. Clover did the same, and sat back against the tall dividing screen with a sigh.

"Oh well, at least my evening isn't completely wasted." Clover took a slow sip from his glass. "Mmm, this is good."

"It is, isn't it? That fruity taste— delicious." Qrow ran his tongue over his lips, licking off the line of froth which had gathered there.

Clover felt his face heating up again. _I think I might be coming down with something..._ He looked up from Qrow's lips to see the other man, watching him intently. Clover felt his hand tremble, setting the glass down with a clink against the table.

"So, Clover, how do you spend your days?" Qrow's low voice filtered through the fog enveloping Clover's brain. He breathed in slowly, and out again, trying to regain a sense of control.

"Uh, physics. I mean, I work in the Physics department at the university. Research mainly, the very occasional bit of teaching thrown in. What about you?"

"Well, I did graphic design at uni. At least, I started with zoology, but switched after my first year. And now I design for film and TV, and video games."

"Design what, exactly?"

"Mostly weapons, and armour. It's a freelance thing, so I go where the work is."

Clover smiled at him. "That must be amazing. I mean, hardly a job at all, right?"

Qrow laughed. "I know it sounds like a cushy number, but there's always deadlines, and wondering where the next job will come from. I've been lucky, and haven't been out of work much since I graduated. Some people I know, not so fortunate."

"So what have you worked on? Anything I'd know? Actually, that's probably a really boring question that you get asked all the time."

"It's only as boring as the person asking it." Qrow leaned forward a little, fixing Clover with a smile. A smile which had an effect on Clover that he didn't understand. "Game of Thrones, of course. Everyone in the industry has worked on that, pretty much. Right now, I'm working on designs for the new Warhammer game, but you probably haven't heard of that."

"Are you kidding? Warhammer? Gods, how many hours of my life have I spent playing that? Mostly tabletop, but the video games a bit too."

Qrow gave a shout of laughter. "No kidding! I would never have you pegged as a Warhammer nerd."

"Why not?" Clover's tone was defensive. "The Game Soc at uni was where I spent my formative years. No-one was safe from my Space Marines."

"Space Marines," scoffed Qrow. "Of course you'd play as Space Marines."

"And why not? Did you play? What were you?"

"Dark Eldar, of course. What else is there?"

"Oh, the bad boys. Well, I'm not surprised." Clover joined in with Qrow's laughter, leaning forwards himself, until their faces were not so very far apart across the narrow table.

The laughter subsided, and Clover gazed into Qrow's face. Qrow was looking at him, one eyebrow raised, a slightly crooked smile on his lips. Clover felt his face warming again, and sat back with a slight jolt. He picked up his glass and drained it. "D'you fancy another?"

Qrow glanced at his watch. "Why not?"

Clover brought the drinks back to the table. The pub was filling up now, and as he took his seat he said, "This is a gay bar, isn't it?"

Qrow's eyes narrowed a little. "It doesn't advertise itself as such, but yes, it is. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all. Just an observation." The beer they were drinking was not very strong, but Clover was feeling uncharacteristically reckless. "You're gay, then?"

"Kind of bi, I guess. Mostly gay," Qrow smiled. "But you're not."

"No, no, not at all. I've never—" Clover's voice was hurried. "But I'm not homophobic or anything." He managed to stop himself adding _I have gay friends, you know._

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. And I'm sorry your date didn't work out this evening."

"Gods, Francine!" Clover had forgotten all about her. He pulled out his phone, frowning at the multiple missed messages. "Sorry, I just need to—" He scrolled through them. "Oh well, that takes the prize for the shortest relationship I've had yet." He put his phone on the table with a sigh.

"What happened?" Qrow's voice was soft, yet Clover had no trouble hearing him, despite the increasing noise in the pub.

"She apologises for not turning up. There was some kind of work emergency, she has to pack her bags and head off to Germany. She'll be gone for six months, and maybe we can hook up when she gets back."

"Hmm. It finished before it started, then."

"How did you know it hadn't started? You're right, as it happens. But how did you know?"

"I'm very observant. Comes with the work I do, I guess." Qrow studied Clover carefully. "So, Star Wars or Star Trek?"

"Oh, we're doing this, are we?" _Although I've not been asked that question on a date before. Not that this is a date, of course._ "Star Trek. What about you?"

"Star Wars, though not all of it. I've nothing against Star Trek, though. Who's your favourite captain?"

"Has to be Picard, doesn't it?"

Qrow laughed. "I knew it. Mine would be... Janeway? Or possibly Georgiou."

"What do you mean, you knew it? Okay, who's your favourite Doctor? You do like Doctor Who, don't you?"

"I do, and I'd say Nine. Yep, definitely Nine. But I bet you'll say Ten."

Clover blushed. "Am I so obvious?"

"Only a bit... alright then. Cake or biscuits?"

"What kind of daft question is that? What sort of monster would make you choose?"

"So, both then. Me too." Qrow nodded his approval.

Clover smiled. "Top or bottom?"

Qrow's glass had been halfway to his mouth. He put it back with a clatter, staring at Clover. "What did you say?"

"When you were a kid. Top bunk or bottom bunk?"

"Ah, right, got you. I've never slept in a bunk, but... I think I'd slightly prefer top, though I'd be happy with bottom. You?"

Clover didn't see why his simple question caused Qrow to smile so broadly. "Well, my sister and I had to share a bedroom when we were kids, and we could never agree, so I used to switch. Top one week, bottom the next."

"Well, that'd work for me." Qrow was trying to suppress a giggle. Clover still felt confused.

"Alright, last one." Qrow had managed to compose himself. "Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon. Preferably with a biscuit."

"That's fair. I'm not a big fan of coffee, but tea... that'll do for me." Qrow smiled, before draining his glass. "Well, I'm out of here. Can I walk you to the station, or something?"

The sudden suggestion caught Clover off guard. He found himself saying, "That'd be nice," before he was aware of the words forming in his brain.

Qrow took the glasses, returning them to the bar with a smile. "Thanks, Qrow. Hope to see you and your friend again soon."

Clover was fairly sure Alex winked at Qrow as she picked up the glasses.

"Who knows? Bye for now, Alex." Qrow took Clover's elbow and steered him through the press of bodies to the door, nodding and smiling to a few of the other patrons as they went.

They stepped out into the twilit street, and Clover took in a deep breath of the fresher air. "That's a friendly place."

"It is. I suppose it's my local, even though I don't live round here."

They began to walk along the narrow street towards the busier road at the end. "Do you live far away?"

"It's about fifteen minutes on the underground, southbound. What about you?" Qrow took Clover's arm again briefly, guiding him round the corner as they headed to the bustle of the main road.

"About twenty minutes away. I go north, though." Clover wondered why the touch of Qrow's hand didn't make him feel uncomfortable. _I feel... relaxed. Maybe that beer was stronger than it seemed._

They approached the main station entrance, where plenty of people were going to and fro, mostly dressed for an evening out. Reaching the main concourse, Clover glanced at the signs for the underground. He and Qrow would head in opposite directions from here.

With the same reckless rush he'd felt earlier, Clover turned to the other man. "Look, thanks for the drink, I had a good time. An unexpectedly good time, compared to how my evening was shaping up."

"I wasn't too much of a disappointment after Francine's no-show, then?" Qrow's eyes seemed darker as Clover looked into them, and an odd feeling settled low in his abdomen. He ran a hand through his hair.

"No... no." Clover looked over Qrow's shoulder, before taking a deep breath and saying, "We could get another drink sometime, if... I mean, only if..." He tailed off, staring fixedly at the black marble pillar behind Qrow.

"Yeah, why not? I need to tell you more about how Space Marines suck so much."

Clover laughed shakily, pulling out his phone. "Give me your number, then."

Qrow took the phone from Clover, entering his details before handing it back. He placed his other hand under Clover's as he returned the phone. "Don't want to drop it," he murmured, as he set it safely in Clover's palm. Clover gripped it tightly, and he felt Qrow's fingers brush against his knuckles as his hand moved away. The light-headed sensation which washed over him came out of nowhere, and Clover shook his head slightly.

"Are you okay?" Qrow's voice was concerned, his hand resting lightly once more on Clover's arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I expect I just need some food."

"That's not a bad idea. Perhaps next time we should grab a meal somewhere." He looked at Clover with the same intense expression as earlier.

"Uh, yeah." Clover tried to steady his voice. _Gods, I_ really _need to eat something._

"Okay, well, I'm off. Look forward to hearing from you, Clover." Qrow squeezed his arm a fraction harder, before smiling once more and turning to walk away. After a few steps he paused, turning to raise a hand in farewell. Clover lifted his own hand automatically, before letting it fall, as he watched Qrow disappear.

"Bye, Qrow." Clover's words hung in the air, as he turned and headed for the escalator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [3 Weiss Monkeys](https://www.londonfieldsbrewery.co.uk/products/3-weiss-monkeys) is a real beer 😀


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two friends try to help Clover make sense of his feelings.

A busy week at work meant most of Clover's days were Qrow-free. The same could not be said for his evenings.

Clover couldn't make sense of the situation. So, he'd had a couple of drinks with a friendly guy who shared an interest in Warhammer with him. They'd had a few laughs, spent no more than two hours in each other's company, and he'd got the guy's number. _So what?_

Clover's brain was scientific, logical. He decided to apply some order and method to his jumbled thoughts.

 _Hypothesis:_ What if Qrow had been Francine?

 _Initial thoughts:_ I'd have considered it a successful first date, and on that basis, plus the fact I can't stop thinking about his eyes... no, no, none of that. Logic only permitted. Not memories of the way it felt when he touched my hand... just stop. Now.

 _Further experimentation:_ Repeat the procedure to ascertain if the results are reproducible.

Right then, that was easy. Science wins the day.

  


It was Saturday, and Clover hadn't done anything with Qrow's number. He _may_ have looked at it a few times. Many times. But nothing more.

After doing his weekly shop at the supermarket, putting two loads through the washing machine, and hoovering most of the house, Clover was wishing he hadn't agreed to meet with Marrow that evening. But the other man wasn't in town for long, so it would have been churlish to turn down the opportunity to catch up. They'd been good friends at uni, and had kept in touch sporadically as their lives went their separate ways.

Clover pushed open the door into the restaurant, the busy chatter of the diners replacing the drone of the traffic outside. He stood for a moment, looking around, finally spotting Marrow with his boyfriend already sitting at a table. Clover made his way over, catching Marrow's eye as he threaded between the tables. Marrow smiled, nudging Jaune who was busy examining the menu. Clover reached the table and sat down.

"Hi Marrow, hi Jaune. It's busy in here tonight!"

"Well, it is Saturday. How are you, mate?"

"Oh you know, much the same. How are you two?" Clover didn't know Jaune that well, as Marrow had met him after he'd moved away.

"We're good, thanks. Look!" Marrow held out his hand, taking Jaune's as well, to show Clover the matching rings they were wearing. "We're engaged now." Jaune squeezed Marrow's hand, smiling at his beaming face.

"Oh, that's nice. Congratulations! But you didn't tell me."

"No, well, we didn't have a party or anything, and we don't even know if we'll get married..."

"We just wanted to show people we were a couple," Jaune added. Marrow ruffled his partner's blond hair.

"We'd been together for what..." He looked at Jaune.

"Nearly three years," nodded the other. "It was about time."

Clover smiled. "I'm really happy for you both. But please don't follow this with _And what about you? Anyone special in your life?_ Because you'd be disappointed."

"You're obviously not with... Karina was it? anymore." Marrow gestured to the fourth chair, currently occupied by a small pile of jackets.

"No, we finished a while ago. It just wasn't working out."

The server arrived at that moment to take their order, and Clover thanked them silently. He really didn't want a post mortem on his recently deceased love life while they ate.

"So, what d'you think went wrong? And what are you doing about it?"

"Marrow," hissed Jaune, "I'm not sure Clover wants—"

"Why are you always so damned persistent? You're like a dog with a bone, you just won't let go," Clover sighed.

"Sorry Clover, if you'd rather not—"

"No, it's okay really. Thing is, I don't know why nothing seems to work out. We get on, no major problems, but... then things fizzle out."

"You've just gotta keep on looking, you'll find the right one in the end." Jaune's hand covered Marrow's where it rested on the table.

"So, have you been out with anyone since Karina?"

"No, not really. Well, not at all, not really." Clover felt himself reddening under the scrutiny of the two men.

Marrow sat back in his seat. "Explain," he said firmly.

Clover glanced up at the server, saved for a second time as their pizzas arrived. As they began to eat, Marrow said through a mouthful of food, "You were saying?"

Realising there was little point in trying to avoid it, Clover recounted his non-date with Francine. As he fell silent, Marrow and Jaune looked at each other.

"So you went for a drink with this guy," Marrow began.

"And you seemed to get on well with him," Jaune added.

"You had a few common interests."

"And he walked you back to the station."

"Then you asked him for his number."

"And you've been thinking about him—and his eyes—quite a bit since," Jaune finished.

Clover had stopped eating and was staring at them. "What are you two saying, exactly?"

"Sounds like you've got the hots for him, mate." Marrow nodded as if the matter was closed, and resumed eating.

"But... he's a man. I mean he's male. And so am I."

Jaune put his arm around Marrow's shoulders, drawing their faces closer together. They both smiled at Clover, before Marrow kissed Jaune on the cheek. Clover shook his head.

"But you two are both gay. I'm not."

"Are you sure about that?" Marrow raised an eyebrow.

"How can I be? I've never fancied men, ever. It doesn't just develop, does it? Like... like a peanut allergy, or something."

Jaune almost choked on his food, as Marrow spluttered into his hand. "Somehow that's all kinds of wrong. Funny, but wrong."

"I'm sorry, I'm only trying to understand what's going on." Clover gulped on his drink, wondering why he'd chosen to put himself through this.

Marrow was whispering in Jaune's ear. The other frowned, before his brow cleared and he beamed at Marrow. "That's a brilliant idea. You are clever."

Marrow turned to face Clover. "Eat up, and let's skip dessert. We're taking you somewhere."

"Uh..." Clover's eloquence was insufficient to persuade them otherwise. With a sigh, he finished his pizza and drained his glass.

  


" _All Access_? What is this place?" Clover had a fair idea, and he wasn't certain he liked it.

"It's a club. And as it's Saturday, there should be a few people inside already." Marrow led the others confidently to the door, and after a quick word with the doorman, they went in.

The interior was dimly lit, and it took a while for Clover's eyes to adjust. When they had, he could see a small bar area, plenty of circular booths around the perimeter of the room, and a dance floor stretching to the far end. There was an upper gallery around three walls, and loud music already pumping out from a desk somewhere in the recesses of the room.

They went to the bar and Marrow ordered drinks. Clover whispered, "So this is a gay club, yeah?"

"More than that... it's more inclusive, so you get all sorts here. No straights, though. You may be the first," Marrow grinned at him.

They took their drinks to the end of the bar, with a good view of the dance floor. Clover was still unsure of the purpose of their visit, but the music wasn't bad so he decided to go along with it.

"Right then," said Marrow. "Look around. Who here do you fancy?"

Clover thanked his luck that he didn't have a mouthful of drink. He stared at Marrow, unable to process what he'd said. "No-one, what do you mean?"

"Look carefully, tell us if there's anyone you like the look of."

Clover sighed. "This is a test, right?"

"We thought it might help you get your head sorted. Just trying to be of assistance."

Clover looked around the room. There were certainly plenty of beautiful people, both male and female. And... who was that who'd just entered? Clover screwed up his eyes, trying to see the tall, dark-haired man more clearly. He approached the bar, turning to his companion, and Clover's stomach twisted in disappointment. It wasn't Qrow.

"You okay, Clover?"

"Yeah, Jaune, I'm fine. In the context of this bizarre situation, anyway." Clover's thoughts were running away from him. _Why was I disappointed it wasn't him? What if it had been, and he'd come with someone else? This is stupid..._

"So, no-one here who floats your gay boat at all?" Marrow sounded crestfallen.

"I can see lots of attractive people, but... I don't feel the urge to get to know any of them better."

"What about Qrow, do you want to know him better?" Jaune's innocent face peered over Marrow's shoulder.

"That's a daft question. No... I don't know. Why don't you two go and dance?"

"Good idea. Back in a bit." Marrow took Jaune's hand and as the slower song filled the room, they put their arms about each other and moved slowly from side to side.

Clover smiled. He was glad for their happiness, but this didn't seem to be for him.

The song ended and they returned to their drinks. Clover had finished his, and leaned in to speak over the much louder music now playing. "I'm going to head off now, but you guys stay. It seems like a good place to spend the rest of the evening."

"You sure?"

"It's fine, Marrow; it was great to see you. And congratulations again, both of you." He hugged them both, before turning away and walking to the exit.

Jaune looked at Marrow. "Well, that seems to confirm it. Surely he'd have been interested in at least one of the guys here... there's plenty to choose from."

"Yeah, seems so. Oh well, we tried. And you keep your eyes on me, okay?"

"Always." Jaune leaned in, his lips meeting Marrow's in a long kiss.

They broke apart. "Poor Clover doesn't know what he's missing," said Marrow, smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover decides to use science to help answer the questions he is asking himself. Which leads to an enjoyable evening.

Back in work on Monday, Clover sat at his desk, reflecting on his bizarre weekend. So, he'd passed—or maybe he'd failed—the gay test. He wasn't even sure any more.

Marrow had texted him on Sunday, with an apology if Clover had been offended by their visit to the club. Clover hadn't been offended, only surprised, and later on, amused. He told Marrow this, assuring him he was grateful for his and Jaune's well-intentioned, if unorthodox, help.

Unfortunately it hadn't helped at all. Clover had been truthful when he'd told them he wasn't attracted to any of the other men at the club. But he still found his thoughts drifting back to a tall, slim figure, dark hair and crimson eyes refusing to be ignored.

The lab door swung open and Vine walked in.

"Morning, Clover. How are you? Did I miss anything?"

Vine had been away the previous week, on his annual fishing trip. He seemed all the better for it, humming to himself as he pulled on his lab coat.

Clover swivelled his chair round. "No, it was all quiet here. Dark Matter seem to have got the message; I didn't have to wash their mugs once last week."

"Good, good."

"And how was your week?"

"Very wet. Not a lot of time on the river, but I got plenty of reading done. A good week, all told."

Clover fetched them both a mug of coffee, and as he handed one to Vine, the other asked, "I almost forgot— how did your date go? I have to say, there's a certain sparkle in your eye that wasn't there before."

"Hmph, can't think why. She couldn't make it, some work thing came up, and now she's in Germany."

"Oh dear. Has there been anyone else?"

Clover tried so hard to keep the image from his mind, but he failed.

"You're smiling, so I presume there is?"

"What? No I wasn't..." Clover forced his mouth to stop smiling.

"Ah well, I'm sure I'll hear all about it in time. But if she's making you happy, then I'm pleased."

Clover sat down at his desk, hoping Vine hadn't noticed the flush spread over his cheeks. _This is crazy. I'm not a school-kid._

The talk moved on to work matters, and Clover relaxed his shoulders. He knew he'd have to address the thoughts nagging at him, but for now, Vine's soothing monotone was exactly what he needed.

❖

Once he got home from work, Clover decided he'd had enough. There was only one way to put an end to the nonsense, and that was to approach the situation by applying the normal scientific method. If the results cannot be reproduced, the initial hypothesis can be discarded.

He texted Qrow, proposing they meet up to eat out, one evening later in the week. He resisted the urge to sit and stare at his phone, taking a shower and drying his hair before checking it again. When he looked at his messages afterwards, there was one unread.

Qrow had replied about three minutes after Clover had sent the initial text. _I won't be around later in the week, but I can manage this evening if that's not too short notice?_

Clover swallowed. At least there wouldn't be any hanging about, wondering...

_This evening's fine, where do you fancy meeting up?_

Qrow replied with the name of an Indian restaurant, not far from the station where they'd first met. _They don't take bookings, but on a Monday there'll be no problem getting a table. See you there at 8?_

Clover checked the time. _Make it 8:30, and I'll be there_.

The response came back quickly. _Looking forward to it. See you later._

❖

The restaurant was no more than five minutes from the station, and Clover got there a little early. He peered inside but couldn't see Qrow, so he waited on the pavement, looking along the street for Qrow's arrival. After a few minutes, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned abruptly. Qrow stood no more than a foot away, a smile on his face which seemed to stop Clover's breath in his chest.

"Oh, you came that way," he said pointlessly. "Hello."

The smile widened, as Qrow stepped back to look at Clover from head to toe. "Hi there. You look... good."

"Oh, uh, thanks. You too." Clover hadn't noticed what Qrow was wearing, as his eyes hadn't left the other man's face. The heat that washed over Clover's cheeks didn't go unnoticed by Qrow.

"Shall we go in? They don't look too busy." Qrow placed a hand on the small of Clover's back, guiding him to the entrance.

The interior, though plainly furnished and decorated, was clean and quite brightly lit. Soft music played in the background, as the server led them to a small table by the window. He flapped out the napkins and righted the wine glasses, before lighting the candle. Another server appeared with two menus, and for a while there was silence at the table as they scanned what was on offer.

"I don't mind if you want to have something meaty." Qrow had mentioned previously that he was a vegetarian. Clover had dallied with a non-meat diet in the past, but had since reverted, although he didn't eat red meat.

"Thanks, but I'll skip it this evening. They've got such a good choice of vegetarian dishes, I don't know what to have."

"We could get a few different things, and share, if you like?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." After his initial mild panic, Clover felt more relaxed, and decided to simply enjoy the meal, and not worry about anything else for now.

  


The food was good, and an hour or so later, both men had eaten all they could, with very little left over.

"That was excellent. Not too spicy, but all the dishes had their own flavour. Really good choice of yours." Clover wiped his mouth and took a sip from his glass of water.

Qrow leaned his elbows on the edge of the table, chin resting on his hands. "You enjoy your food."

"Well, yeah. You'd be daft to come here and just pick at it."

"Some of the guys I've been out with, they're terrified of putting on weight, so they order one bhaji and make it last half the evening. I like to see a man with an appetite." His grin made Clover feel fidgety, though not in an unpleasant way.

"Hmm, you saying I don't care about how I look?"

"You don't need to, Clover. You look just fine."

There was a buzzing in Clover's ears as he tried to focus. It wasn't only the words, it was the way Qrow said them. The way he _looked_ as he said them.

"Uh, thanks. I... I've never been complimented by a man before. Feels kind of odd."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Qrow's forehead wrinkled as he looked at Clover. "Force of habit, I'm afraid."

Clover felt suddenly bold. "I didn't say I didn't like it."

Something heavy seemed to hang in the air between them, the tinkling music fading away as their eyes met. Clover sensed a movement under the table, as the edge of Qrow's foot pressed against his own.

"Do... do you want dessert?" Clover was amazed he'd managed to sound halfway coherent.

"I do like to finish with a sweet thing." Qrow's small smirk as he looked across the table sent Clover's mind into a turmoil once more. "I usually have a mango kulfi. You?"

"Almond for me, please." Clover tried to ignore Qrow, willing his face to cool down.

Qrow looked across to the server, who came briskly over and began to clear their table. "That was very good, thank you. Could we have a mango kulfi, and an almond kulfi, please?"

"Yes sir, right away." The man retreated with his stack of dishes.

"So, the mango kulfi is sweet enough for you? I thought you might go for the gulab jamun, if you like sweet things so much." Clover wasn't sure why he said this, but something about Qrow... was making him behave in a way he never had before.

Qrow smiled. "True, and I was tempted. Very tempted." Qrow glanced at Clover, his eyes glinting. "But my dentist probably wouldn't approve."

"Your teeth are perfect." Clover looked at Qrow, abashed. "Did I actually just say that? Gods, how embarrassing."

"I've had stranger compliments. No, don't ask." Qrow grinned, as he saw Clover was about to enquire.

Their desserts arrived, and after deciding against coffees, Qrow called for the bill.

"This was my idea, so I'll pay."

"No," argued Clover. "I asked you, so I should pay."

They agreed to split the bill fifty-fifty.

Outside a chilly breeze was blowing fitfully along the street, picking up discarded crisp packets and dropping them again.

"You came from the station a different way to me." Clover zipped his jacket all the way, turning up the collar at the back.

"It's a bit quicker that way." Qrow waved to his right. "But after dark it's better to go your way."

They began to walk slowly along the street, moving to one side or another to avoid oncoming pedestrians. Clover remembered how Qrow had taken his arm when they'd left the pub the other evening. He wondered why that thought came back to him now.

"So, have you ever been mugged? While walking around here?"

"Not me, no. But a friend was; they put him in hospital. That's why I'm more careful now." Qrow stopped walking. "Hold on a minute."

He rested a hand on Clover's arm, leaning heavily on him as he raised a leg, scratching at his ankle. "That's better, thanks." As they resumed, Qrow's hand remained in place. Clover didn't complain.

They reached the station and went in, the black marble pillar standing like the focal point of Clover's world. This was where he'd met Qrow, and where their paths diverged. _I love it, and I hate it._ The thought sprang unbidden into his mind, and he felt his cheeks warming at the meaning the words might hold.

"Here we are again." Their steps slowed to a halt, and Qrow finally removed his hand.

Reckless Clover was about to take over once more, telling Sensible Clover, _Stand back, I've got this._ Clover's fingers twitched as his hand moved to take hold of Qrow's, but before he could, Qrow leaned towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Clover felt cool lips press against his warm cheek.

"Thanks for a great evening. I haven't—" He broke off as he stood back, and Clover saw a faint flush colour his pale face. "It was good."

"It was, the food was excellent. We should... we should do it again sometime." Reckless Clover had stepped in at the last minute, leaving Clover's heart pounding painfully as he gazed at Qrow's face. The expression he saw there was one of tenderness, maybe even yearning. Clover's lungs decided to take a short holiday, as he and Qrow simply stared at each other, without speaking.

"We should." Qrow's soft words broke the moment, and Clover started to breathe again.

"You've got my number now. When you're less busy, you could... we could..."

Qrow smiled broadly, his eyes dark as he held Clover's gaze.

"Yes, we could."

And with that, he turned on his heel and strode away. This time he didn't look back, and Clover watched as he merged in with the other people on the concourse. When Clover finally had to admit there was no Qrow-shaped figure in view, he slowly made his way to the escalator, and headed for home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock Holmes helps Clover realise that his feelings for Qrow are more than just friendly.

When his alarm went off the following morning, Clover wasn't sure he'd actually slept at all. His attempts to fall asleep had been interrupted repeatedly by replays from the previous evening. Some in slow motion, with a soft focus effect, and a throaty saxophone soundtrack.

Clover cancelled the alarm, rolling onto his stomach, before cursing as he rolled back again. _Hmm, been a while since I woke up in this state._ He forced himself out of bed, going through the morning routine on autopilot, and trying to think of anything other than Qrow.

He was not successful.

  


Qrow, meanwhile, had woken earlier than usual. He was half-sitting up in bed, flicking through the latest messages on his phone. Most of them were from different guys he'd dated in the recent past. _It's nice to be popular_. Although at the moment, he could scarcely summon any of their faces into focus. Only one face stayed firmly at the centre stage of his thoughts— a smiling mouth, brown hair, and impossibly green eyes. A face that just happened to belong to a self-confessed non-gay man. _Damn, I'd got so good at this. Why did he have to catch me out? What am I going to do?_

As Qrow shifted his position, he became aware of an unexpected addition to his morning. The boxers he slept in were uncomfortably stretched at the front, an occurrence of some rarity for him. _Oh, you're here, are you?_ He felt a rising heat, as Clover's face slid into his thoughts once more. _Damn it. Just... damn it._

❖

Vine was already in the lab when Clover arrived.

"They've done it again! The state of the kitchen this morning... I'm going to have words. And they won't like it."

"Strange, it was fine last week." Clover was feeling mischievous. "Maybe it's because you're back at work, and they like to rile you. Or perhaps they just want an excuse to get you to visit them."

Vine looked at Clover with narrowed eyes. "Haha, very funny. What's put you in such a jolly mood today?"

"I can't imagine." Clover smiled to himself as he turned away to take off his jacket. "I don't mind speaking to them, if you prefer."

"Well, you could, I suppose. I'll make the coffees in that case."

Clover felt almost light-hearted as he went along the corridor. _I don't remember feeling like this for... well, pretty much forever. Odd._

After successfully negotiating with Dark Matter and reaching agreement regarding the coffee area, Clover's buoyant mood increased further. He returned to the lab, his cup of coffee waiting for him on his desk.

"Thanks, Vine. Uh, quick question for you."

Vine stood up, his head slowly appearing over the equipment on the bench between them. "You called?"

Clover grinned. _Why am I smiling at everything? Even Vine?_

"How many times would you say an experiment should be repeated, before the results could be said to be reproducible?"

Vine folded his arms. "That's not a question that has an accurate answer, really. It could be six times, ten, twenty, fifty... Obviously, the more often the same result is obtained, the more certain we can be that the original hypothesis was correct."

"That's what I'd have said. Thanks, Vine." Clover smiled at him again, and Vine began to wonder.

"Going well, is it? With... what was her name again?"

Clover's face took on a fiery hue. "I don't think I said there was anyone, did I?"

"You don't have to. But if you want to keep it to yourself for now, that's fine. Let's not tempt fate, eh?" Vine returned to his desk, smiling.

Clover sat before his computer, eyes unfocused. _So I need to see Qrow about fifty times to prove... whatever it is I'm trying to prove._ He shifted in his seat. The doubts were slowly edging away into the far corners of his mind, as he recalled what Sherlock Holmes had said. _When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth._ Clover had to acknowledge, the feelings he had when he thought of Qrow, were not the feelings of one friend to another. Vine was a friend—sort of—and Clover had never blushed when he thought of Vine. Had never spent an unnecessary length of time considering Vine's pale face, grey hair, and light blue eyes. Had never woken up in the morning thinking of Vine, with a—

 _Okay, that's enough._ Clover took a deep breath. However improbable it seemed, he was attracted to another man. Just one man. Qrow.

❖

The week passed for Qrow at a crawl. He enjoyed his work and normally relished the meetings with clients, discussing the finer details of this weapon, or that piece of armour, but... this week was different. He knew why; every time his brain switched away from work for a moment, he knew why.

At school, he'd once had a crush on a straight guy. The memory of the hurt and embarrassment—when he'd told him, only to be rebuffed—had never faded. Mocked, ridiculed, derided. He didn't want to experience that pain, ever again.

Clover seemed different, though. _I've seen him blush, I felt his hand tremble that time..._ It didn't add up. Qrow knew he would get no peace until he'd said something, and brought the whole edifice crashing down upon him in the process. Then he'd go back to the shallow, casual relationships which had been his story so far. And life would be calm once more.

Qrow tried to ignore the ache in his gut as he turned back to his computer.

❖

It was Friday, and Clover wondered if it would be too forward to contact Qrow. Did they have to alternate? No, there were no fixed rules. _It's not as if we're dating, or anything_. He sent a message, proposing meeting up over the weekend. After several hours there had been no reply, and Clover's mood had descended to the lowest it had been for a while. He waited for Vine to comment, but the other man either didn't notice, or had decided not to probe.

Eventually the work day ended, and Vine left with a cheery, "Try to enjoy your weekend if you can."

Clover sat in the quiet lab, knowing he had to leave, and having no energy to even rise from his chair. Then his phone buzzed.

_Sorry I didn't reply sooner, damn phone battery died and I hadn't noticed. Do you like Blade Runner?_

Clover shook his head in puzzlement, brow furrowed, reading the message twice before replying. _Yeah, at least I enjoyed the original. Managed to miss the new one somehow._

Qrow's response was odd.

_Excellent._

Clover waited a moment, and fortunately, there was more.

_My local indie cinema is showing both films tomorrow, shall I book?_

Clover's heart lifted from the deep place it had nestled in, as he replied _Yeah, that would be great. Let me know where and when._

He jumped to his feet, checking the lab to make sure things were turned off as required, before changing into his jacket and heading for home.

❖

The first film started at four-thirty, so Clover had a leisurely Saturday morning, followed by a decent lunch. He wasn't sure how eating later would work, and hoped the cinema would have some reasonable snacks. _The last thing I want is my stomach showing me up at a quiet moment._

The journey down to Qrow's was easy, just one change at the main station. Clover walked by the marble pillar, and couldn't resist patting it for luck as he went past. His mind was a little more settled now, but he still wasn't certain if this was a date. _I'll probably know the answer to that by the end of the evening._ He tried to calm the fluttering feeling in his stomach as he headed for the southbound platform.

They'd arranged to meet outside the tube station, and when he exited onto the street, Clover was relieved to see the other man waiting. Qrow was wearing a washed out denim jacket and a pair of tight black jeans, with a few rips in just the right places. As he turned round, catching Clover's eye and raising a hand, the jacket opened up to show a close fitting white t-shirt underneath. Clover drew nearer, and he could see the contours of Qrow's body quite clearly beneath the thin fabric. The sight was even better than any of the images which had been going through his head all week.

"Hi." He reached Qrow, and Clover couldn't help himself. He lifted a hand and touched the other man's chest. "You look... amazing. Sorry, I shouldn't—"

Qrow took Clover's hand in his. "Don't apologise. And hi yourself." He leaned in and kissed Clover's cheek lightly. Stepping back, he looked the other man up and down. Clover had worn a new pair of chinos, their dark green colour accentuating his eyes even more, Qrow thought. The battered brown leather flying jacket looked good on him, too.

"I'm more than happy with my view as well." Qrow smiled at the blush rising on Clover's cheeks. "But we should get going; the cinema's a few minutes up the road." He took Clover's arm and they walked along the street to the small cinema.

"Here we are. Do you want to buy something to munch on?"

Armed with popcorn, a bag of chocolates, and two drinks, they went into the dimly lit auditorium and found their seats. Being small, there were only two screens in the building. The seats for this showing were filling up rapidly and by the time the adverts began, it was almost full.

Clover enjoyed watching the original _Blade Runner_ again. He also enjoyed leaning closer to Qrow, in order to share the snacks more easily. When Qrow whispered a comment close to Clover's ear, the warmth of his breath on Clover's skin sent a shiver through his body. As they sat close in the darkness, Reckless Clover was tempted to rest a hand on Qrow's leg. Sensible Clover resisted, however. _This is all a bit much, and I'm a little bit scared..._

During the interval they grabbed some food in the foyer, eating it quickly so as not to miss the start of the second film. As Clover hadn't seen this one at all, his attention was more focused on the action. He didn't notice Qrow regarding him several times, the other man's smile widening as he watched Clover's changing expressions in the pale glow from the screen.

When it had finished, they put their jackets on and filed to the exit. As the small crowd of people spilled out onto the street, Qrow checked his watch. "What time is your train back?"

"They run every half hour, on the quarter. So the next one will be at a quarter to eleven. The last train is the one after that."

"D'you fancy some chips? There's a good chippy not far from here."

"I'd love some chips, and there should be time. Lead the way."

Qrow curled his fingers around Clover's elbow and they walked along the high street, joining the small queue of people waiting at the chip shop. The smell of frying chips made Clover's stomach gurgle. "How big are the portions? I don't mind sharing, if they're quite large."

"We could get a big bag. Do you like salt and vinegar?"

"I do. If that suits you."

Qrow squeezed against Clover to allow a customer to pass through the doorway. He looked into Clover's face. "It does."

Clover swallowed. The urge to maintain the contact between himself and Qrow was almost overwhelming.

"Next, please!"

"Uh, chips, a large portion, please." Qrow drew out his card to pay for them. "My treat," he said, before Clover could argue.

They left the shop, Qrow holding the bag carefully. The tangy smell of vinegar rose from the chips, and they walked slowly back towards the station, savouring the salty taste. Qrow picked out a particularly long chip, and held it towards Clover's mouth, laughing. Clover bit it in half, taking Qrow's hand and guiding the other half back to his lips. Their steps slowed down until they came to a halt.

Qrow shook the bag. "These are pretty much all gone now." He crumpled the bag and looked around, walking a few paces to put it in a waste bin.

"Mmm, they were good." Qrow licked the salt from his lips as he walked back to where Clover was standing.

"Here, let me." Clover lifted a finger to Qrow's mouth, softly brushing his lips until the last crumbs were gone. In a giddy second, he leaned forward and kissed Qrow lightly. Before he could respond, Clover pulled away, his eyes wide. "Sorry, I shouldn't have— that was wrong, I should've asked, sorry..."

"You probably should." Qrow took one of Clover's trembling hands in his own. "And I would've said yes."

Clover's voice was unsteady. "I've never done that before. Obviously."

Qrow smiled gently. " _You kissed a guy and you liked it_ ," he paraphrased. "Well, I hope you did."

Reckless Clover decided to take charge. "I'm not sure... I'd have to double check."

Qrow's smile grew wider. "Okay, then."

Clover stepped forward hesitantly, as Qrow raised a hand to touch the side of his face. Their lips met in the softest of kisses, and as Clover's tongue brushed Qrow's, the touch almost imperceptible, he could taste the salty flavour which they shared.

After a moment they separated. Qrow's eyes, dark yet glittering, reflected the streetlights overhead. Clover thought he had never experienced a kiss so sweet. His hand went spontaneously to his mouth, as a slow smile crossed his face. "I did like it."

Qrow leaned forward to whisper, "We should do it again some time." And he hugged Clover, a tender yet strong embrace unlike any Clover had received before. "But I think you've got a train to catch."

Clover nodded dumbly, his mind trying to cope with a myriad of whirling thoughts. Qrow held his hand and they crossed the road to the station, pausing at the entrance.

"You've got your ticket?"

Clover patted his pocket. "I've got a card."

"Okay, well... I had a wonderful time, Clover. And the films were good, too."

Clover nodded, a slight frown on his face. "Yeah, thanks for suggesting it. And—" he broke off, gazing into Qrow's face. "I don't know what's going on with me, but... whatever it is, I like it." He bit his lip, blushing. "And if you want to meet up again..."

"I do. Very much." Qrow took one of Clover's hands, kissing the knuckles softly. "Give me a call, when you're ready. Or I'll call you, if I get impatient."

Clover smiled. "Okay."

They stood there a little longer, before Qrow said, "You really need to go through now."

"I know." Clover's fingers uncurled from Qrow's reluctantly, and he pulled out his travel card. "See you soon, Qrow. And... thank you."

He passed through the barrier, pausing to wave once, before disappearing into the depths of the station.

Qrow moved slowly away, his hand rubbing the side of his face, before brushing against his lips. He smiled, his footsteps speeding up, as he made his way home.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover is enjoying spending time with Qrow, but some things are not so easy to get used to.

Qrow didn't have to be patient for long.

  


Clover made his way home in an almost dazed state. When he crossed the concourse at the main station, he thought maybe he should kiss the black marble pillar. It had blessed him with good luck, sending him an evening Clover could never have anticipated... _how long has it been? Not even two weeks..._

It didn't matter. In all his prior relationships, which were scattered behind him like the dead leaves of autumn, Clover had never felt this way. He'd found his past girlfriends attractive, of course. He'd laughed with them, enjoyed their company, their soft skin... But this was different. _I've levelled up._ He laughed aloud, drawing a worried look from the guard at the barrier as he went through.

Clover didn't care.

  


He texted Qrow when he reached his train. _Did I say thanks for a brilliant evening? The films were great, the company even better._

Qrow replied with a heart emoji. Clover almost kissed his phone.

_I don't know if it's your thing, but if you're not busy tomorrow, the trees in Kew Gardens are worth a look this time of year._

After a short pause, Qrow replied _I've never been to Kew Gardens. Probably about time I did._ _Do they have a tearoom?_

Clover smiled. _They do. I recommend the chocolate cake._

The response was immediate. _What time and where do we meet?_

❖

The weather on Sunday was cool, but dry. Clover arrived a little ahead of time, and waited at the main entrance. After a few minutes he saw Qrow approach, coat unbuttoned and flapping while he walked. As he drew near, Clover closed the gap between them, catching Qrow's hand and pulling him in as they kissed hello. The kiss lengthened, still soft and gentle, and Clover found he didn't want it to stop.

"Hello, Qrow." Eventually they parted, both men's cheeks flushed.

"Hello, Clover. That was nice."

Clover's blushes increased as he looked at his feet. "I couldn't help it."

"Do you hear me complaining?" Qrow grinned. "Anyway, trees. Lead on, you're the expert here." Qrow slid his hand into Clover's, and within minutes they were inside and heading off through the Gardens. The differing colours of autumn foliage were striking, and Qrow found it more enjoyable than he'd expected.

"So, is this a thing straight people do?" Qrow's tone was teasing.

Clover looked at him quizzically. "I don't think trees are inherently straight. Or gay." He paused. "I'm amazed you've lived in London so long, yet never been here before."

Qrow shrugged. "The guys I've dated in the past, none of them seemed the tree type."

Clover wondered what it was about him that made him a tree type. He also wondered if Qrow would be happy dating someone who was a tree type.

As they walked along the meandering pathways through the arboretum, Clover decided it was time to put his thoughts into words.

"Qrow, I need to tell you something." He felt Qrow's hand twitch slightly in his.

"Conversations starting with that sentence, generally don't end well. And we haven't even had the cake yet." Qrow looked sideways at Clover's fixed expression.

"It's just... I don't want to give you the wrong impression. About me." Clover drew a deep breath. "I'm not gay. Not even bi. No, wait." He could sense Qrow wanted to interrupt. "I've looked at all the websites, done any number of quizzes and stuff... I'm not gay. I don't fancy guys, as a general thing."

Qrow's footsteps slowed to a halt, and Clover turned to face him. Qrow's face was pale, and he bit at his lower lip as he looked at Clover. "But yesterday... what was all that about?" He raised their hands, still clasped. "What's all _this_ about?"

Clover gazed at Qrow's beautiful eyes, narrowed now as his forehead wrinkled.

"It's just you, Qrow. No one else. No other man. Just you." His hand trembled as he watched a variety of expressions pass across Qrow's face. "I wanted you to know. I didn't want you to think I was someone I'm not."

Qrow's brow cleared, and he raised his head to look intently into Clover's eyes. Clover felt the grip on his hand increase, and squeezed Qrow's hand in return.

"Is... is that alright with you?"

Qrow suddenly stepped close and kissed Clover hard on the mouth. The roughness of the stubble on his face caught Clover off guard, and he stiffened involuntarily in response. Qrow pulled away, his eyes searching Clover's face. "What's up?"

Clover smiled, tracing Qrow's lightly stubbled jaw with one finger. "I... I guess I didn't know what it would feel like... a kiss like that."

Qrow laughed. "Fair point. You'll just have to get accustomed to it." He kissed Clover again, more gently this time, breathing a sigh against Clover's lips as the other man leant into him. "Is that better?"

"I'm getting there," Clover smiled. "And... what I said just now—"

"It's all fine, Clover. People like to label themselves; you've just got your own label. Not sure what would be written on it, though. I've never come across anything like this before."

"Me neither. Two weeks ago, I hadn't even met you. And now..."

"Now, I think it's cake time. Where's the tearoom?" Qrow kissed Clover once more, before taking his arm as they set off along the path.

❖

Clover sat alone in the lab, thinking. It was three days since he'd last seen Qrow, and it would be a few more days until they met again. In the meantime, plenty of text messages had been exchanged, and as Clover scrolled back through the most recent conversation, he couldn't help smiling. The things they talked about were not deep or meaningful, but reading through it made Qrow seem closer. Clover could hear the words spoken in Qrow's husky voice, and his smile grew so wide, his face almost ached. _Thank goodness for modern technology_.

Reluctantly, he closed the messages app and put his phone on the desk. Looking at the conversation made him long to have Qrow there, with him, right now.

_I'll just have to be patient_.

❖

The following weekend there was an exhibition of _Art and Design in Science Fiction_ , which Clover had seen advertised on a poster as he travelled home from work. It seemed an obvious choice for both him and Qrow to visit, which they did, and spent far longer there than either expected. There was no time for the meal afterwards which they'd planned, so they ended up eating veggie burgers from a burger van, something Clover wasn't sure he'd ever done before.

"What, never? Not even when you were a kid?"

"I don't think so. Maybe I've blotted the memory from my mind," Clover smiled, as he tried to stop his burger shedding fried onions over the pavement.

"You have to admit, there's something about eating food outdoors, standing up." Qrow finished his, crumpling the wrapper and wiping his mouth.

"Yeah, it's awkward and uncivilised." Clover gave up, putting the remains of his into the waste bin, and rubbing his fingers together.

"You are so stuffy." Qrow pulled a tissue from his pocket and rubbed at Clover's mouth, before pulling him into a warm kiss. "Lucky we both had onions."

They set off to the station. Qrow had to get the train home, and Clover had a twenty minute walk to his house. At the front of the station, there was a board with a scrawled message on it.

"Oh, great. No more trains from here tonight." Qrow groaned. "I'll have to get a taxi, I suppose."

Clover hesitated. "You could stop at mine," he offered. "I don't have a spare room as such, but the sofa is a bed, so..."

Qrow looked at him closely. "Are you sure? I've not been to your place before..."

"There has to be a first time." Clover didn't see a problem. "I mean— this isn't a cunning plan at all... just an offer of a sofa for the night."

"Okay, thanks, if you're sure. I can get the train back tomorrow."

  


Clover folded out the sofa bed, putting the cushions to one side. "I'll get some bedding, and do you want to borrow something to wear in bed? I've got spare pyjama bottoms if you like."

"Thanks, that'd be great." Qrow felt a little strange being in Clover's house, seeing his personal environment. But Clover didn't seem fazed; he bustled about with pillows and a quilt, tossing some pyjamas to Qrow and saying, "Would you like to use the bathroom? I've put out a new toothbrush for you."

Qrow grinned. "You really are a Boy Scout, aren't you? _Be prepared_ and all that."

Clover smiled grimly. "Well, I've had people stop over before, so..."

Qrow dropped the pyjamas on the bed. "And now you've got me." He took Clover's hand, kissing the palm softly. "If you were anyone else, I'd probably be pushing to sleep upstairs. But... it's up to you to make that call, Clover. Just know, if you do, I won't be turning you down."

Clover gazed at Qrow, swallowing the lump that rose in his throat. "Thank you. Really, I mean it. It's a lot to get used to, but I think I'm doing okay."

"More than okay." Qrow pulled Clover towards him, one hand at the small of his back, the other pressed flat against his chest. "You know, you give me improper thoughts." His voice had dropped to a husky murmur, his lips tickling against Clover's ear. Clover felt Qrow's hand running across his t-shirt, felt his nipple harden as Qrow chafed at it with one finger. When Qrow's leg pressed between his own, Clover couldn't help but groan, pushing back with some urgency.

"Gods Qrow, you... you do things to me." The part of Clover's brain which was still functioning wished he'd managed to sound a little more eloquent.

"Lie down. Just for a bit." Qrow nudged Clover towards the sofa bed and he laid back on it, allowing room for Qrow to lie alongside him.

Clover gazed up into Qrow's eyes. The red was barely visible, his pupils wide as he looked down. Clover stroked the side of Qrow's face, smiling at the stubble, which he still found strange when it rubbed against his face. "Kiss me."

Qrow didn't need a second prompt. His lips brushed against Clover's, chafing a little— but Clover was getting used to that, now. He could smell Qrow's skin, his hair... an earthy, musky scent so different to what Clover had known before. He could hear a deep hum, low in Qrow's throat, mirroring his own as Qrow's hand found his, fingers lacing together, their hands almost the same size. Qrow's mouth was hard now against Clover's, his teeth nipping at the lower lip. Clover's trembling fingers brushed over the thin fabric of Qrow's shirt, tracing the small, firm nipples, the contours of the muscles, before sliding around his waist to pull Qrow down towards him. Qrow's body was hard against his own, and Clover felt a dizziness wash over him. "Stop a minute, Qrow, please..."

Qrow pushed himself away, looking down in consternation. "What's the matter?"

"It's... all a bit much. I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't be. Stupid of me, I keep forgetting how different this is for you." He pressed a gentle kiss against Clover's forehead. "That all went a bit too fast, didn't it? But you're so—" Qrow stopped himself saying any more. His desire for the man lying beneath him was great, and he didn't want to frighten Clover away. He breathed in deeply, then clambered off the bed. "I'll go and clean my teeth. Where's the bathroom?"

"2nd door on the right." Clover's voice was a little shaky as he sat up. "Thank you." He looked up at Qrow, a small smile on his face.

"That's okay, don't worry. We don't need to rush."

Qrow went slowly up the stairs, willing his erection to disappear.

When he returned to the living room, the bed was made and there was a glass of water on a small table alongside. He smiled as he pulled off his clothes, pulling on the pyjama bottoms which, as he'd expected, were at least one size too big for him.

Clover appeared at the open door, ready for bed, his hair a little tousled. Qrow tried hard not to stare at his broad chest, the lines of his abs, or the suggestion of dark hair which crept beyond the waistband of his pyjamas. "Anything else you need?"

"No thanks, I'm good." Qrow crossed the room, pulling his pyjamas up as they threatened to slide down over his hips. He kissed Clover gently on the cheek. "Goodnight, Clover. See you in the morning."

Clover smiled at him. "'Night, Qrow. And... thanks again." He pulled the door closed, and Qrow heard his feet padding up the stairs.

Qrow took a look about the room before turning off the light. A photo frame caught his eye, turned face down on a book shelf. He picked it up.

Clover's happy, smiling face looked back at him, alongside a pretty woman with long, fair hair. Qrow felt a pinching sensation in his chest.

_Can this work? If he's not actually gay?_

There was no answer to be had. Qrow replaced the picture, switching off the light and sliding under the quilt. He lay awake for some time, eyes staring blindly into the darkness, before finally falling asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a big step for Clover, and he's not finding it easy to take. Luckily, Qrow learns to be patient.

Qrow left after breakfast the following day. Clover felt there was an unspoken question in the air; a faint tension which remained unresolved. Qrow seemed cheerful enough, however, thanking Clover for putting him up, and not mentioning the events of the previous night.

They walked to the station, the early morning air crisp with the promise of frosty days to come. When they reached the entrance, Qrow turned towards Clover.

"As bad luck would have it, I'm busy again all week, but... the cinema has a special showing next Saturday. It's the director's cut of Terminator 2, would you be interested?"

The Terminator films weren't Clover's favourite, but that didn't seem important. "I would. Can you let me know what time? And I guess I'll meet you outside the station like before?"

"Sounds perfect." Qrow drew him into a warm kiss. "Look, about last night..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I _am_ trying."

"That's just it, Clover. You shouldn't have to _try_. Just let it happen when it wants to. When _you_ want it to."

Clover hugged him tightly. "Thank you," he said, his voice muffled against Qrow's spiky hair.

"I've got to go. Let me know how your week's going, won't you?" Qrow kissed his cheek. "I'll miss you." He turned and went through the barrier. One wave, and he was gone.

_And I'll miss you._ Clover retraced his steps slowly back to his house.

❖

Clover's work week dragged. It wasn't that he so wanted it to be Saturday— even though he did. There were uncomfortable thoughts running through his head, which seemed to slow down the clock and make each day longer than was fair.

He couldn't help fretting about how things had gone the previous weekend. This burgeoning relationship, still so fragile and in need of care, seemed to be in danger, and he blamed himself. _Either I am this person, or I'm not_. He wanted to be the right person for Qrow, more than he'd ever wanted anything.

Vine knew Clover was troubled. He guessed it was more than the ongoing feud with Dark Matter, which had bubbled up again.

"Have things hit a bumpy patch, Clover?" He stopped by the other's desk, instead of going round to his own.

Clover glanced up from his computer. "Do you really want to know, or are you just being polite?"

"Well, you know me, I'm always polite. But... you do seem down, compared to last week. I'm happy to listen, you know."

Clover huffed out a sigh. "It's good of you to offer, but... I don't know. I— you were right, there is someone. And they seem special, more than... I really want it to work, and there's something— a hurdle I need to clear, but I'm having difficulty with that. It's something I haven't done before, and I'm a little anxious about it. More than a little."

Vine looked at him for a long moment. "I don't pretend to understand what you're saying, Clover. Other than— if you truly want something, and you think it's worth it, then a little pain or difficulty is sometimes the price you pay. Think of childbirth," he continued, as Clover raised his eyebrows. "The first birth for anyone is a thing they've not done before, and it's a painful process. But the end result... most people would say it was definitely worth it." He considered Clover with his pale eyes. "The only question to answer is— how important is this person to you?"

Clover leaned back in his chair. "Sometimes, Vine, you astonish me. That was very helpful, thank you."

"Oh, and don't forget— it might be relevant." Vine paused as he skirted the end of the bench. "It's the monthly department get-together next week. I believe partners are welcome."

❖

Saturday finally arrived, and Clover set off for his cinema date. He and Qrow had exchanged a few texts throughout the week, with no mention of anything other than how their days were going. Clover was impatient to see him; after Vine's talk, his mind was set.

He took the now familiar journey down to Qrow's station, emerging onto the street where a thin drizzle was falling. He saw Qrow straight away, standing a little way along the road under a large black umbrella, the collar of his dark coat turned up against the weather. Clover's feet quickened and he finished almost at a run, catching Qrow in a hug. Qrow laughed as he was lifted from the ground, Clover twirling him a short way before dropping him back on his feet.

"It's good to see you too," smiled Qrow. His kiss was warm against Clover's cool skin, slightly damp from the rain. "Let's get out of the wet."

They walked quickly to the cinema and Qrow collapsed the umbrella, shaking off the drips before they went into the foyer.

Clover ran his hands through his hair, rubbing them together to dry them. "I've missed you, Qrow. Quite a bit."

"Me too. But, you're here now. And— what's with the bag?"

Clover was carrying a small rucksack over one shoulder. As Qrow tapped it, Clover blushed. "Oh, I just had to get a few bits of shopping, that's all."

Qrow peered at his pink cheeks. "Fair enough. Uh, shall we take in some food?"

  


The film passed quickly, even though it was twenty minutes longer than the already lengthy original. Clover felt bold enough this time to rest a hand on Qrow's knee. He saw Qrow smile in the dim light, as the other man covered Clover's hand with his own, squeezing it gently.

When the film finished, Qrow lifted Clover's hand, brushing his lips across the knuckles. "Ready to go?"

The street was dark when they left the cinema, and Qrow checked his watch. "Time for a quick drink if you like, before you need to get back?"

Clover took his arm as they began to walk. The rain had stopped, but the road was still wet, and they had to avoid walking near the puddles which had formed in the gutter. "I was wondering," he began.

"Mmm?"

"It seems a shame to come down here for only a few hours, then have to leave so soon. I... I may have brought some overnight things." Clover looked straight ahead, not noticing Qrow's sharp sideways glance. "If that's okay." He looked at Qrow, whose face bore a small frown.

"This isn't some half-baked notion, that you have to try and push yourself to please me, I hope." Qrow wasn't sure this was how things should be.

"No, it isn't that. I decided this is what I want, and I want to... to get past this point. I want this." Clover's voice was determined.

Qrow leaned towards him, kissing his cheek. "Well, if that's the case... would you like to stop over?"

"I would."

❖

Qrow apologised for the untidiness of his flat. "If I'd known you were coming, I'd have made an effort." He gathered up scattered books and magazines from the chairs in the living room, saying, "Sit down, be comfortable. Would you like beer, or a hot drink?"

"Beer's fine, thanks."

Clover looked round the room as Qrow went to the kitchen. It was plainly decorated, a couple of abstract prints on the wall, but no personal photos. Qrow came back quickly with two bottles.

"Here you go." He sat beside Clover, their legs pressing comfortably together. Clover could feel Qrow's warmth against him, and he ran his free hand along Qrow's thigh.

"That's nice." Qrow moved round on the sofa, so Clover could curve his hand onto the inner part of his leg. Qrow stroked the back of Clover's neck, and after a few moments he took Clover's beer and his own, placing them out of the way. Returning to sit across Clover's lap, Qrow cupped his face gently. "How's this?"

"More than acceptable." Clover smiled as Qrow bent his head, finding Clover's mouth with a kiss which got progressively more heated. Qrow shifted against Clover, feeling him grow hard underneath him. Clover's head rested back against the sofa, his neck inviting Qrow's lips to softly explore it. His tongue followed, Clover pushing up with a moan, as Qrow's teeth scraped his skin before sucking a bruise low down on his neck.

"We should go to bed." Qrow's hot breath fluttered over the other man's skin as he licked the mark he'd left. "If you're ready."

"Mmm." Clover pushed his hands through Qrow's soft hair, pulling him into an almost frenzied kiss. Lips chafing, teeth nipping, tongues searching, as the pressure increased between them.

Qrow clambered off, standing straight and offering his hands to Clover, pulling him upright. After a long gaze between red eyes and green, they left the room, drinks forgotten in the anticipation of what was to come.

❖

Clover finished in the bathroom, pausing before stepping out into the bedroom. Qrow was sitting in bed, a large empty space beside him. He pulled back the quilt, patting the mattress, a warm smile on his face.

Clover froze on the threshold. He wanted, so much, to do the right thing. To be with Qrow, for them to please each other. His body was willing, that much was obvious. And his heart yearned to find closeness with the other man.

But mentally, Clover felt cold.

He knew what was involved. He'd read many—probably too many—online articles— offering advice, helpful tips, encouraging words.

Clover bit his lip, trying to relax his shoulders as he crossed over to the bed. He sat cautiously next to Qrow, who said, "You're gorgeous, but I guess you've heard that before." There was a smile in his voice, and Clover swallowed.

"I— I don't know if I can do this, Qrow." He sat at the very edge of the bed, knees slightly raised, arms hugging the quilt.

Qrow reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Come and lie down; it'll be okay."

"I can't," Clover whispered. "I wish I could, but I can't."

Qrow withdrew his hand. "Look, we've talked about this." His voice had an edge to it. "You said you wanted to, I said I'd go slow, and now you're just giving up?"

Clover was silent. His whole body felt rigid, and there was a sharp, hard thing in his chest, twisting into him.

"I'm sorry." His voice barely carried to Qrow's ears. He got out of bed, grabbing blindly for his clothes. "I'll go, I'll—"

Qrow jumped from the bed, hurrying round to where Clover stood. "Oh gods, I'm sorry, Clover. What an insensitive shit I am. Look, you can't leave, the last train has gone. And I don't want you to." He touched Clover's arm, but the other man shrank from him.

"This is no good. If I can't— there's no point, is there? It's not fair on you..."

Qrow's shoulders sagged. "Please don't say that. Just... come back to bed. We don't need to do anything. Just— don't go."

Clover stood rigidly by the bed, aware of Qrow's hurt gaze. He breathed out a long sigh.

"This is what I've dreaded. To get to the moment, and then—"

"Clover, hold on a minute. Don't say anything else." Qrow took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Clover's face. He reached out a hand, tentative fingers linking with Clover's.

Clover turned to face him, his mouth trembling. "Truth is, and I feel stupid saying it, but... I'm a bit scared." He looked past Qrow, to the tumbled bedclothes and the wide expanse of mattress.

Qrow felt as if his heart had been pinched by cruel fingers. _I don't know how to help him._

"Please come to bed, Clover. Nothing needs to happen; we can just go to sleep. Look, I can—" He went to a cupboard, pulling out a large towel and rolling it into a cylindrical shape.

"We'll put this between us, then it won't be awkward."

"Like this isn't at all awkward already," Clover laughed shakily.

"I know, right? I also know you're worth it. Come here." He put the towel on the bed, opening his arms wide. Clover stepped forward, Qrow holding him in a careful embrace. "Let's get some sleep."

Qrow arranged the towel to provide a soft barrier between their bodies, and Clover lay down with a sigh. "Thank you, Qrow. For being so patient with me."

"Like I said, you're worth it." He leaned across, pressing a soft kiss against Clover's cheek. "Sleep well."

"You too, Qrow." He returned the kiss, his eyes searching Qrow's face. "I'm sorry for— disappointing you."

"It's still early days, Clover. Let's not give up yet."

"No, you're right." Clover managed a small smile, adding, "Goodnight, then." He turned over and settled into the bed.

Qrow lay still for a long while, listening to Clover's breath slowing down as he fell into sleep. _Well, that wasn't exactly ideal._ He wondered what it was about the man sleeping beside him. Of course he was attractive— that was what drew Qrow in at the start. But... there had to be more. _He isn't like anyone I've dated before_. Qrow suppressed a laugh. _Obviously._

So why? Why him? Qrow's heart lurched as he contemplated the end of this new relationship.

_I told him he was worth it._

Qrow reflected on all the men he had been with in his life. There had been many of them. _Too many_. Not one had touched his heart in the way Clover had.

_Maybe I'm worth it, too._

He reached beyond the rolled up towel, fingers extending to rest softly against warm skin. Clover stirred, muttering something under his breath. Then Qrow felt a hand close over his, as Clover moved slightly, before settling again.

_They're not tears. Don't be ridiculous._

Qrow rubbed at his face, allowing himself a hopeful smile, as he finally drifted off to sleep.

❖

Clover hadn't expected to sleep well at all, but to his surprise the next thing he knew, he was waking bleary eyed in the early light of dawn. Momentarily confused, he lay still, trying to make sense of where he was. He became aware of a quiet, warm breath on his back, and of a light touch against his waist. Their barrier was still in place, but Qrow had snuggled up behind him, one hand resting lightly against Clover's skin.

After his initial tension, Clover relaxed under Qrow's hand. The sound of his steady breathing was soothing, and Clover lay, warm and drowsy, until Qrow stirred some while later. Clover felt him yawn behind him, and his hand slipped away as Qrow rolled onto his back. Clover turned over to face him.

"Good morning." He gazed at Qrow's blinking eyes, at his untidy hair sticking out from his head. "You look wonderful."

"Hmph. Flatterer." Qrow rolled back onto his side, their faces almost touching. "How was your night?"

Clover's lips pinched together. "After my stupid—"

"C'mon Clover, let's not go there." Qrow paused, biting his lip. "The main thing is... do you want us to be together?"

Clover's eyes widened. "Yes, yes. More than anything." He paused. "What— what about you?"

"This is a strange situation, and you're not like anyone I've been with before. You make me dizzy, and give me daft feelings, and I want to be with you all the time. I want us to stick this out, take the time you need to be happy with it, and see what comes next."

Clover rubbed at his eyes. "Gosh."

"So eloquent." Qrow smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the nose. "Would you like some breakfast?"

❖

Clover left late in the morning, a welcome lightness in his chest. Whilst he wished that yesterday could have gone differently, Qrow's tenderness and concern—after the initial disappointment he'd displayed—relieved Clover's anxious mind. _Just don't think about it. Think about other things_.

Like the departmental get-together, which Clover had forgotten about completely. He wasn't sure Qrow would want to attend, but... it was worth asking, at least.

Once on the train, he texted Qrow with the question. After a few minutes, the reply arrived. _Sure, what day is it again?_

Having established that Friday was fine, Clover settled back in his seat.

Every relationship was bound to have hitches. Okay, maybe not quite their kind of hitch. But he was confident that they'd get past it. That _he'd_ get past it.

He just needed a little more time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their first public event as a couple, Clover realises he is ready.

"It's okay, so long as we stay for at least half an hour. We can escape then," Clover whispered in Qrow's ear as they entered the room. It was a standard large meeting room, the tables pushed back against the walls to accommodate the staff of the department. And their guests, where appropriate.

Clover felt decidedly nervous as Qrow preceded him into the room. He'd only told Vine earlier that day, and no-one else was aware Dr Ebi now had a male... boyfriend? Partner? Clover wasn't even sure of the correct terminology.

Vine's reaction was typical of him, Clover thought with a smile. After an initial raising of one eyebrow, he'd merely said, "So it seems you may have found the right one? I'm happy for you, Clover. I look forward to meeting him."

"Qrow, this is my colleague, Dr Vine Zeki. Vine, this is Qrow Branwen."

Qrow held out a hand, which was grasped in a handshake he found unexpectedly firm. Vine studied Qrow intently, and after a short silence, stated, "It's a pleasure to meet the person who has brought Clover happiness. When he is happy, the lab is a better place. Now, can I get you a drink?"

"Uh, white wine, thanks." Qrow's lips twitched as Vine walked away. "He's a strange one," he whispered.

"He is, but he has a kind heart. And he's given me some good advice over the last few weeks."

"So, you have a personal counsellor? Lucky you."

Vine returned with two glasses of wine. "I brought you the same, Clover. If that's okay."

"Thanks, Vine, that'll do nicely. I wonder if I could ask you to look after Qrow for a few minutes? I just need to speak to someone, is that okay?" His eyes turned to Qrow as he finished.

"I'll be fine, off you go." Qrow watched Clover as he joined a small knot of people standing near one of the tables. A soft smile curved his lips as Clover laughed at something said by one of the group.

"You care for him." Vine's words were a statement, rather than a question.

Qrow looked at him. "I do."

"Clover is— not a friend as such, but a dear colleague. He has had several setbacks in his personal life, but I think he may have to stop searching now." His pale eyes scrutinised Qrow's blushing face. "I hope you can be happy together."

"That's my intention." Qrow felt slightly awkward having this kind of conversation with someone he'd only just met.

Vine gave a small nod. "That's good." As Clover made his way back to them, he added, "Now I need to find some food," and moved away.

Clover looked at Qrow's pink cheeks. "Was Vine being embarrassing?"

"Yes, well... he wasn't at all embarrassed. Just... forthright. The embarrassment was all mine."

"He's just like that, don't worry. Now, can I introduce you to a few more people? And after we've mingled for a while, we can leave whenever we want."

  


The walk back to Clover's house was refreshing, after the stuffy atmosphere of the meeting room. Qrow had said hello to any number of people and, apart from Vine, he couldn't recall any of them.

"Don't worry," Clover had reassured him. "I hardly speak to most of them myself from one day to the next. Except for Vine, of course."

"I like him. He's an unusual character, but surprisingly easy to talk to."

"He is, and I'm glad. If he hadn't approved, I might have had to reconsider." Clover nudged Qrow gently, before the other turned and stopped him.

"I hope you don't do that." His eyes were dark, holding Clover's in a serious gaze.

"I was joking. I don't plan on going anywhere."

Their kiss was slow, Qrow's hands softly cupping Clover's face, as he slid his arms inside Qrow's open jacket, drawing him close. Clover felt his heart begin to race, felt himself growing hard as his body pressed against Qrow's. After a moment, he broke away.

"Don't go home tonight."

Qrow's eyes shimmered, his own breath quickening at the note in Clover's voice. "Are you sure?"

"Scientifically speaking, one can rarely be sure. I can only say that at this moment, the probability of me being certain of my decision is very high." Clover smiled slowly at Qrow's expression.

"Come on, then, Dr Ebi. Just don't try to bamboozle me with science talk." Qrow took his hand, and they hurried, steps matching, back to Clover's.

❖

This time it was different.

They went straight to the bedroom, and Qrow undressed Clover carefully, taking off each piece of clothing slowly and putting it to one side. When finally there was nothing left to remove, Qrow stood before Clover, holding his hands.

"Thank you, Clover. Thank you for letting me be the one who gets to share this with you." Qrow kissed him gently, and Clover went to sit in the bed, watching with wide eyes as Qrow undressed himself.

Before joining Clover, Qrow rummaged in his jacket, which was slung over the back of a chair, pulling out a tube of gel which he tossed onto the bed. He also moved the box of tissues within easy reach.

"Now who's the Boy Scout?" Clover's voice was shaky as Qrow sat on the bed alongside him. "Do all your jackets have a secret lube pocket?"

Qrow smiled. "They don't, although that's not such a bad idea." He raised a hand, touching the side of Clover's face lightly.

"Lie down. I want to kiss you."

Clover shivered as he stretched out on the bed, Qrow's fingers brushing softly over his chest. He closed his eyes, and Qrow kissed his eyelids, lips slowly travelling down Clover's face and neck, leaving a trail of tiny kisses all the way.

Clover had become accustomed to the feel of Qrow's mouth on his when they kissed, but the sensation of rough stubble against his chest was new. Qrow rubbed the side of his chin gently against a nipple, Clover responding with a low moan, his fingers combing through Qrow's hair. Qrow groaned, his own hand moving down to hold himself, before he stopped. _For now, it's about Clover_.

Qrow had been careful not to brush against Clover's lower body; he didn't want this to be over too soon. So as his mouth continued its slow journey, he ran his tongue down the side of Clover's hip, circling round to press a kiss on his thigh.

"Open your legs a bit, and raise your knees," he murmured, pressing against the inside of Clover's knees gently. Clover obliged, unable to still the shudder that ran through him, as Qrow's tongue licked across from one thigh to the other. Qrow sat back, his fingers now following the same path, and Clover let out a soft moan, his hips bucking a little.

Qrow leaned forward, kissing him firmly on the mouth. "This is where it gets interesting." His smile was gentle as he reached for the lube, watching Clover's face intently.

Clover's eyes widened, his pupils dark, as Qrow popped the lid and squeezed some of the colourless gel into his hand. He sat back, rubbing his fingers against the palm of his hand. "Okay?"

Clover nodded, his hands clutching at the edges at the bed.

"Just breathe slowly, and tell me to stop any time if you're not enjoying it."

Clover nodded again, his mouth unable to form any coherent words.

Qrow's finger moved slowly, gently, rubbing a soft line and pressing a little more firmly each time. Finally it paused, and Clover breathed in sharply as he felt the tightness yielding to Qrow's careful pressure. Qrow took hold of Clover's hand as it scrabbled at the sheet, their fingers slotting together. His other hand moved slowly, pushing further each time. Clover's breathing quickened, his hips lifting as the urge to grind back against Qrow's hand intensified. He gave in to it, hearing Qrow's murmurs of approval.

"That's right, enjoy it, Clover..."

Clover gazed at Qrow through half-lidded eyes. Qrow was watching his hand as it moved, Clover's grip around his finger making him feel almost dizzy. He took a steadying breath, glancing up at Clover's face and smiling. "You all good up there?"

"Yes." Never had one syllable carried such weight, as Clover caught hold of Qrow's hand moving against him, pulling it closer, his whispered reply barely audible.

Qrow released Clover's other hand, still clasped against the bed. He grabbed the lube and held out the tube to Clover. "Here, you do it."

Clover's hands trembled as he took the tube, squeezing the gel down onto Qrow's fingers and slicking it over them. As Qrow's eyes searched Clover's face, he slid a second finger alongside the first, eliciting a gasp from the other man, but no complaint.

"Clover, you're... just beautiful." Qrow's voice was a murmur, seeming to come from some distance away, as Clover melted against his hand.

Clover heard a voice, whimpering, "Oh, oh, oh..." As he raised his hand to his mouth, teeth biting against it, he realised it was him.

There was a pressure building, a powder-keg just waiting for the spark to travel along the fuse. As one hand moved back and forth, two fingers almost enough to bring him crashing down, Qrow's other hand traced across Clover's stomach, fingers brushing through the dark brown curls, before taking him in a firm grip. A thumb rubbed up and down, and Clover almost sobbed, "Qrow, I... can you... please..."

Clover wanted this exquisite moment to last forever, but— he needed fulfilment, too. As he felt Qrow's fingers flex a little inside him, the other hand moving faster, a dizzying whirlwind picked him up and took him higher, higher...

Qrow was inside him, he was around him, he held Clover in his hands, and every sensation, everything he could ever feel, was swirling like a tornado about the man who knelt before him, the softest smile on his face, as Clover tumbled into the abyss.

Hours later—or so it seemed to Clover—he felt a drag as Qrow withdrew his fingers, his other hand now lying against Clover's sticky body, cupping him so gently. Clover opened his eyes, to see Qrow staring at him. "Clover, can I—" he gestured to his own body, breathing heavily.

Clover nodded. "Yes," he whispered. This was so far from anything he'd ever known, but it was Qrow, and it would be okay.

Qrow's hand, already slippery, began to move, and Clover could only watch, mesmerised, as Qrow quickened his pace. It did not take long, and then there was further warm wetness on his chest, and Qrow had tipped forward above him, propped on one hand.

"Gods, Clover, I— you're..." The words fell from his lips. Clover was beautiful, he was gorgeous, he was so, so lovely...

Clover reached up to pull Qrow towards him. "All that back at you, Qrow." He kissed Qrow softly, breathing out a shuddering sigh against his dark hair.

Sensible Clover decided to pay a brief visit. "This is a messy business, isn't it?"

Qrow snorted. "I'm afraid so, you'd better get used to it."

Clover grabbed at the tissue box, snatching a handful to dry them both. He threw the tissues onto the floor, pulling at the quilt to cover them. Qrow lay on his side, slipping an arm beneath Clover and holding him tightly. "How was that?"

"Do you need to ask? It was... unreal. I've never felt— Qrow, you know I liked it." Clover recalled some of the noises he'd made, his face warming. He could feel Qrow grinning against his hair.

"And... does that make me a bottom, now?"

"You've been on the internet again, haven't you?" Qrow's voice was amused. "And yeah, a semi-bottom, maybe. A fledgling bottom. But... labels, as we know, aren't always that helpful. And didn't you say you like to switch?"

"You mean... next time..."

"Next time we do what pleases us both; it's not a strict rota. You funny man." Qrow squeezed him fondly.

"No, but... I'd like to learn... that felt so _good_ , Qrow. I want to learn how to do that for you, too."

Qrow's heart swelled with a feeling he couldn't explain. _This isn't love, is it? Not yet, surely?_ He wasn't religious, but he thanked whatever quirk of the universe it was that caused this wonderful man to enter his life. A man who trusted him implicitly, to guide his feet along the path he'd chosen.

"Oh, don't worry, Clover, I fully intend to teach you _everything_." Qrow reached across to the nightstand, flicking the switch on the bedside lamp. He kissed the back of Clover's head, curling an arm around his waist.

With a sigh, Clover snuggled back against him, more than ready for sleep.

❖

They woke late the following morning, warm and still faintly sticky.

Qrow thought he wouldn't mind at all if he woke up like this every morning.

Clover was thinking exactly the same thing.

When he checked his phone, there had been a message from Marrow earlier. _We're on a flying visit to your neck of the woods, d'you fancy meeting up?_

Clover rolled over and squinted at Qrow. "One of my old mates from uni is in the area, do you fancy meeting him and his boyfriend later?"

"We _could_ stay in bed all day, but yeah, why not?"

"It'll probably be a fair bit later." Clover's smile was shy as he turned back to his phone to reply to Marrow.

_We'd love to see you. How about that club you took me to the other week?_

❖

They met outside _All Access_ , Marrow almost standing on tiptoes to get the first view of who Clover was bringing with him.

"It's a guy! It must be him!"

Jaune shushed him as the two men drew closer. He put a hand on Marrow's shoulder, trying to stop him bouncing up and down with excitement.

Clover could see the performance from across the street. "I didn't tell them exactly who I was bringing," he whispered to Qrow.

"He seems... pleased to see you."

"Oh, that's Marrow. He can get a bit excitable."

They all shook hands and went in, finding a booth to sit in this time. Qrow offered to buy the first round, and Clover went with him to help carry the drinks back.

"What d'you think?" Marrow spoke quietly in Jaune's ear.

"They seem very... relaxed together. And he's good looking... if a bit of a goth. Almost wolfish, I'd say."

Marrow looked at him. "Is wolfish a good thing?"

Jaune smiled. "I reckon it could be."

Marrow put his head on one side. "I could be wolfish," he offered, and leaned into Jaune to nibble at his ear.

Clover took the first two drinks back, smiling at the two men who were almost nuzzling each other in the booth.

"Come on you two, behave yourselves," he laughed.

Qrow waited at the bar for the final drinks. He was oblivious to the appraising glances of the other patrons, even though once, not so long ago, he would have been doing exactly the same. Eyes flicking over every new arrival, weighing them up, even over the shoulder of his current date.

Now it was different. Qrow thanked the server as he took the drinks, carrying them back to the table. His eyes were fixed on the only person in the room that mattered. As he reached the booth, Clover gave him a smile. A wide, warm, welcoming smile. And in an instant, all the pieces of Qrow's life settled into place, as Clover took the tray of jumbled shapes and shook it carefully, transforming them into a coherent picture at last.

Clover watched Qrow as he set the drinks down on the table. They might as well have been alone, their surroundings of no consequence, as he smiled at the other man. Qrow, and only Qrow, had opened a hidden door to a life Clover didn't even know existed. After hesitating on the threshold, Clover had stepped through gladly. He took Qrow's hand and kissed it, as the door closed gently behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we leave them ❤️💚
> 
> Many thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it 🙂
> 
> I would like to thank Russell T Davies, the writer behind the TV drama Bob & Rose, which gave me the idea for this.  
> If you don't know, 'Bob' was based on a friend of his, a self-proclaimed "out and proud" gay man. Who fell in love with a woman. Just the one. 'Bob' considered himself still as gay as he'd always been, and that he'd be gay until he died. He'd fallen in love with a person who happened to be female. They went on to have a child, and hopefully are still living their good life together.
> 
> Thanks again (how many times am I going to say this) to my Arbiter of Smut, [Sorkari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorkari/pseuds/Sorkari) 🙂

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
